Not Gonna Live Forever
by klutz101
Summary: Roger and Mimi break up...again. RogerMimi R


Title: Not Gonna Live Forever  
Author: Lindsey  
Feedback: much appreciated  
Pairing: Roger/Mimi, Mark, Mrs. Davis, Mr. Davis  
Word Count: 1799  
Rating: PG-13  
Genre: fluff  
Summary: Roger and Mimi break up...again. RogerMimi  
Notes: for challenge 11 at speedrent  
Special Thanks: Johnathon Larson for creating RENT  
Spoilers: none  
Warnings: language  
Disclaimer: only in my dreams…

"You know... there are times that we're dirt broke and hungry and freezing and I ask myself why the hell am I still living here?" Mark asked as he walked towards the kitchen counter where Roger sat. "And then _they_ call, and I remember." Mark sat down.

Roger rolled his eyes. "At least they're visiting you in about 10 minutes."

Mark grabbed a handful of Cap'n Crunch from the cereal box. "Why are they coming, again?" he asked with interest.

"They want to meet my fiancé."

Mark stared at him. "You asked Mimi to—"

"—no."

"Then why do your parents think you're getting married?"

"Because I asked them to lend me some money a while back and when they asked me what it was for, I said an engagement ring for my girlfriend."

Mark stared at him in shock. "You lied to your parents to get money?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Because it is!"

"Well, technically I didn't lie to them."

Mark eyed him. "What are you saying?"

"A month ago I went to the jewelers to buy a ring for Mimi. I was going to ask her to marry me, and then…I don't know. I just chickened out." Roger stared at the floor. "I got the courage again about three days ago and I planned this whole romantic thing for tonight…and then…"

"…she dumped you." Mark said sympathetically.

"Yeah," Roger mumbled. "And I don't even know why this time! She just came up here last night and said, 'It's over'."

"Maybe you should talk to her, find out why."

"I will, but first I have to deal with my parents. I gotta come up with some reason why Mimi isn't here."

"You could say she's sick," Mark suggested.

"I don't think that one will work this time," Roger replied.

"Okay, well you could say that she's at work or that she's out of town."

"I don't know. I'll think of something later." Roger checked the clock on the wall. 4:53. His parents were supposed to come at five o'clock. Roger got up from his chair and walked into his bedroom.

x-x-x

Mimi had to make him jealous, she just _had_ to. She had to show him what he was missing out on. She strolled over to her closet and pulled out her shortest skirt, her lowest-cut top she owned that also showed off her stomach, and a pair of high heels.

In all honesty, she hadn't meant to break up with Roger. She was just tired, tired of fucking waiting for him to ask "the question". She and Roger had been dating for two years now, on and off. They were both dying; neither of them ever denied that fact. So, why hadn't he asked her yet, to be his and only his?

Mimi thought that Roger was going to ask her many times. She could have sworn she saw a ring on the dresser in the bedroom they shared…well, used to share anyway. Mimi also remembered once, late at night, hearing him talking to himself in the bathroom where he didn't think anyone could hear him. She had heard him though, and it sounded like he was rehearsing a speech: a speech about love and how he longed to be with her.

But that had been _months_ ago and he had never once asked her officially to marry him. Mimi was fed up. If he didn't want her, then she wouldn't be his.

But she loved him _so_ much.

A single tear slipped from her brown eyes that _he_ loved so much; she hurriedly wiped it away. She finished getting dressed and grabbed a box off the floor that she had packed up last night. The box contained everything of his that he had left in her old apartment (not like there was a lot, they were mostly at the loft) or had given to her as a gift. The only thing that wasn't in that box was the lyrics to her song. The song that he had written for her, that was about her and her eyes, the song that had brought her back from the dead.

Mimi left her apartment and headed up to the loft.

x-x-x

"Mom, Dad! Hi!" Roger greeted as he opened the loft's door. Mrs. Davis embraced him in a hug and planted more than a few kissed on his cheek. His dad simply shook his hand.

"So where' Mimi?" his mother asked. "I've been dying to meet this woman for months; she makes you so happy, doesn't she?"

"Yeah, she does."

Mrs. Davis didn't seem to hear the sadness in her son's voice. "So where is the bride-to-be?" his mother asked excitedly.

"Mom, uh…Mimi and I, we're not really…you see, Mimi's not…"

A knock at the door interrupted him. Roger closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You guys sit down," he said pointing to the couch. "I'll be right back." Roger walked over to the door and opened it.

"Oh, hey," he said as he saw Mimi standing before him.

"Hi," she said, her voice full of guilt. It was then that he noticed the box in her hands.

"What's that?"

She looked down at the box. "Look, Rog. I'm sorry, I just can't…" He could tell that she was fighting back tears.

Roger looked down at the floor for the tenth time that day. "Meems, I can't do this right now. My parents are here."

"Your parents are here? That's your excuse not to talk about our relationship!" Mimi was getting pissed off now. She pushed the box into Roger's hands and turned to leave.

"Wait!" he yelled after her. He placed the box on the ground and she heard him mumble something like, "I'll be right back" into the loft before closing the door and grabbing her elbow, making her face him.

"Mimi, what did I do?" His deep green eyes glistened with tears.

She couldn't hold her tears anymore; she started to sob uncontrollably. He held her and rested his chin on her head. Roger continued to say soothing words into her ear and rock her back and forth.

When he felt her stop crying, Roger let his grip on Mimi loosen. He bent so that he was Mimi's height and looked her in her eyes.

"Meems, please tell me what I did wrong," he pleaded.

Mimi sniffled. "It's what you didn't do, Rog."

Roger was confused. "What?"

"I'm dying Roger; we both know that. I don't have much time left and the time that I do have left, I want to spend it with you."

This confused Roger even more. "Then why did you break up with me?"

Mimi sighed. "When I do die," Roger seemed to flinch at this, "I don't want to be remembered as Roger's stripper girlfriend."

"What are you saying?"

"Rog, I want to be remembered as the love of your life, the one woman you couldn't live without."

"You will be remembered for those things, Mimi, because they are true. I can't live without you. I have no clue in hell how I could've survived without you all these years."

Mimi smiled a little. "Oh Rog, you don't get it." She touched his cheek. "On my tombstone I don't want it to read 'Mimi Marquez: Loving Girlfriend', I want it to read 'Mimi Davis: Loving Wife'."

Roger blinked a few times. "You want to get married?" Mimi nodded her head. "That's why you broke up with me?" Mimi nodded again. "God, Mimi," he whispered before tilting her head to meet his lips in a passionate kiss.

Yet another tear slipped from Mimi's eyes. "Does this mean we're…?"

"Yeah." Roger kissed her again, this time with more passion if that were possible.

The kiss grew hotter, and before Roger knew it Mimi had unbuttoned his shirt and pushed him up against the loft door.

"Mimi…my…parents…are…here," Roger tried to say in between kisses, but Mimi ignored him.

He could hear footsteps near the door and he thought he heard Mark say, "I'll go check on him."

Mimi had to have heard him too because just as the loft door slid open, she pushed herself off of Roger.

Mark stared at both Mimi and Roger. He knew they had been making-out before he interrupted because Mimi's hair was disheveled, Roger's shirt was halfway off, and he had lipstick all over his face.

Mark smiled. "Your parents are waiting to meet Mimi." He then turned around and walked back into the loft.

Mimi turned to face Roger. "Your parents wanted to meet the girl who broke their son's heart last night?"

"No," Roger replied. "My parents wanted to meet the girl who I was about to marry." Mimi looked at him puzzled. "They thought we were engaged already."

Mimi raised her eyebrow. "Why would they think that?"

"I, uh, sort of borrowed some money from them a few months ago so I could buy you a ring."

Mimi stared at him in shock. "Wh-What?"

"Meems, I was going to propose a couple weeks ago."

"You were?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you?" Mimi pushed.

"I don't know…I just kind of got scared; thought maybe you'd say no."

"Oh, Rog," she said kissing him lightly on the lips. "I wouldn't have said no."

Roger laughed. "I know, I was just being the fuckup I always am."

"Aw, babe, but you're my fuckup," Mimi said kissing him sweetly. "Come on, let's go meet your parents." Mimi grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the loft. He remained where he was.

"Hold on just a sec," Roger said, grabbing something from his pocket. "They're going to want to see the ring I bought you with their money," he said placing the ring on her finger.

Mimi stared at the diamond on her finger for awhile. Roger didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. "I love it," she whispered soon afterward and hugged Roger for dear life.

He kissed her forehead sweetly. "I love you," he mumbled.

Roger could feel Mimi smile against his chest and barely heard her muffle, "I love you, too."

A few minutes later, Roger and Mimi entered the loft hand-in-hand. Mrs. Davis immediately ran over to the two of them and embraced them in a hug.

"You must be Mimi," Roger's mother said after they pulled away. "Thank you for making my son happy."

Roger blushed at his mother's comment and Mimi simply smiled. "It's my pleasure," she told the older woman.

Roger wrapped his arm around his fiancé's waist and squeezed slightly. Mimi's smile grew wider and Mrs. Davis grabbed Mimi's hand, examining the engagement ring.

"It's beautiful," Mrs. Davis commented.

"Yeah it is," Mimi agreed staring at Roger. "Yeah, it is."


End file.
